


Beauty Marks

by nachtmaredoll



Series: Last One Burning [2]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Budding Relationship, Corporate Espionage, Espionage, Identity & Gender, Last One Burning - Asides, Mystery, Other, Secret Identity, set within Broken Remnants
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:20:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29177868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nachtmaredoll/pseuds/nachtmaredoll
Summary: Marionette—Marine—to her friends, is good at what she does. She’s had years to perfect her art, there is very few things in which she can’t do, and few things she’s unsure of after all these years. So, why then, is she so terrified of her roommate finding out?
Relationships: TBR - To Be Revealed
Series: Last One Burning [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2077602
Comments: 12
Kudos: 3





	1. Too Shy

Marionette, or Marine—as she was known to friends—was not having her best day. She was slowly reaching her limit with this mission and all she wanted to do was to get back home and collapse onto her couch. She was so absolutely beyond done with this mission, and so eager to be back home, that she didn’t even care if she fell asleep still adorned in her hair, makeup and dress _nor_ if she startled the absolute living hell out of her roommate. She was tired, a headache was forming from keeping her face perfectly set in a false smile, and she was growing tired of the giggling hyena at her side. Her boss had set this mission on her so extremely last minute that she had forgotten to grab her headache pills, and she was truly beginning to suffer for it. Perhaps, after she returned home, she would refrain from immediately doing the case paperwork or even ‘misplace’ it. Even better: she would demand a pay raise. It was the _least_ her boss could do for her sitting here among these blowhards, pretending to be airheaded and vapid as she secretly listened and gathered intel.

It didn’t even matter that her partner was a few feet away, dressed in the uniform of a server in case things went sideways and she needed assistance—not that she ever needed help. Perhaps in a fight, as these heels were _not_ made for how she moved on the battlefield, but to sit and be pretty? That she could do with her eyes closed. It was absolutely nothing for her to ply the men around her with more alcohol, loosening up those already overly talkative lips, and waiting for the utmost _ideal_ moment in which she could cast a Poison over her target before excusing herself and leaving them slowly dying as she simply walked away.

Tonight’s target was a rival to the company, a man of a crueler mind than the military director, and therefore she had been set to annihilate him. To the higher ups, it would appear as if they were ensuring the company’s best interests, but within her division and coworkers, it was much closer to rebellion and treason. Of course, that was why _she_ had been chosen for this job: she simply _did not_ exist in the books. There was no employee registered with her name, no ID with her face; and there was no civilian or citizen in _any_ town on Gaia that bore her name. She was a phantom and corporate espionage ghost story that men and women told each other at parties like this, warning them not to attract attention from her employers. In fact, she had already heard several such stories tonight, and if she hadn’t been itching to be at home curled up in a pair of comfortable sweatpants with her hair cascading down over her shoulders as she watched her roommate tinker with their weapons, she would’ve been greatly amused at the new version of her legend.

As it was: she was tired, she had a headache, and she was quickly growing annoyed with the handsy man sitting beside her. She honestly should’ve cast a Poison on him by now, but her plans had been derailed when a few of the man’s coworkers had joined them and two of the secretaries had decided to get catty with her. She could’ve cast a Multiply Poison on them, if she had been allowed time to properly prepare, but she had barely had enough of a notice to do her full beat and dress; at least she had her favorite handgun safely hidden under her dress coat. Toying with the bangle on her left wrist, she thought over her roommate again, and wondered what he was doing without her. They had originally had plans for tonight: to go to see the new production of _Loveless_ and she’d pushed the tickets into his hands as she had grabbed her bag and ran out the door.

“Don’t you think it is odd, though?” She blinked as she lifted her head to focus on the bottle blonde across from her. The two women had been talking about mindless gossip for hours now—when they weren’t attempting to harass her over her small chest—and so she had tuned them out, but now with them addressing her directly, she had to pay attention. Humming, she shifted her attention from her bangle and up to the blonde.

“Think what is odd?” She questioned as she tilted her head, pretending she was curious and just hadn’t heard what was said, instead of having been completely tuned out of the two’s conversation.

“That Shinra has a filthy Wutain on the payroll. Isn’t it… well, concerning? If the Boss was in charge, such a traitor to his own country would be gotten rid of.” The blonde woman answered as the brunette next to her hummed and nodded in agreement.

 _“Kit—don’t.”_ Her partner’s voice was low and quiet in her ear, and as much as the earpiece bothered her, she was currently thankful for the man’s calming presence in this precise moment. She hated when people brought this up, as it rarely ended well for anyone involved and she’d always get a talking to from her boss at the fallout afterwards. _“Kit, do not react. If you blow this you’ll be kept at the office.”_

She sighed as she listened to the reasoning within her partner’s logic; it was a damn good warning too. If she messed up here and lost her temper, she wouldn’t be allowed to go home and she’d go even longer in being away from her roommate. She’d already been on this mission for too long in her opinion—a full day considering having to get ready—and she found herself itching to get back home. Back home to pretty and caring light brown eyes, a jawline to _die for_ and a smug smile that left fluttering butterflies in her stomach.

“I hadn’t thought much about it, to be honest.” She answered finally, humming and playing with a curl as if she had been pondering it and had simply gotten nowhere. “Why? I hear he’s a pretty boy.”

“He might be just, but pretty boys are better when _not_ Wutain barbarians.” The brunette sneered and she made a mental note to cast a Poison over her too before she slipped out of here. She hated this, having to play nice to such vapid creatures.

“Hmm, well… what _do_ you prefer then?” She questioned, changing the focus of their conversation, and once more tuning out as they began to argue with each other over guys around the office. With that taken care of, she turned back to the target and moved to pour the louse yet another drink.

“I think that the Turks and SOLDIERS should be disbanded, put everything within the purview of the regular military. The Turks are not reliable, can anyone even confirm their supposed ‘jobs’, or even their successful ‘missions’? If I was in charge of the Shinra military, I would have them all taken care of. That way, the Vice-President brat would be left vulnerable…”

 _“Kit. Do it.”_ She nearly purred at the permission from her partner to layer a slow acting Poison spell over the target before shifting and excusing herself to the restroom.

* * *

She groaned as she stepped into the front entryway of her house. Her feet hurt and her head was absolutely pounding from not having eaten anything in hours, plus the extensive materia usage, and not to mention her hair—she was _exhausted._ Stepping out of her shoes, she winced and bent to rub at her sore arch.

“You’re back late.” At the sound of her roommate’s voice, she gasped and hid back against the hallway wall, her free hand clamped over her mouth as she prayed for him _not_ to come around the corner and see her. “Are you hungry?”

She whimpered as she heard his footsteps move from tile over carpet and she quickly slammed her hand over the hall light switch before shifting back and away from him. She was not _at all_ mentally prepared to run into him. _Yes_ , she had been wanting to do nothing _but_ come back home to the very person that was currently straining to see her in the dark, but she hadn’t expected the man to still be awake. She had planned on getting home, showering and changing into something comfortable before grabbing a snack and then passing out after eating to wake up in her bed as if everything was normal. _This was not normal._

“What’s up with you?” She hummed noncommittally as he slightly grouched and moved out of the hallway. She listened as stockinged feet moved first back over the living room carpet before once more touching the linoleum tiles of the kitchen. Hearing the sounds of slight clanging of pots and pans, she took off her other heel before tiptoeing forward to cautiously peek around the corner to watch her roommate in the kitchen. She always enjoyed watching him cook, the way the muscles in his back or arms would shift and the soft smirk she’d get upon blinking in surprise as he once again managed to set a dish before her and make her eat. “Whatever it is, I’m making a late dinner. Had a _long_ day. So, go shower or whatever you need to do. This will take a bit. Sorry.”

She tilted her head as she listened to him, watching for a few extra seconds to ensure he were focused on preparing their dinner, and rushed across the gap of the wall to the other side of the doorway. Shifting on the balls of her feet, she whimpered at the pulled muscles in her legs, but fought it back long enough to do their acknowledging knock against the wall before turning and rushing into her bedroom.

Resting her back against the door, she sighed out in relief that she hadn’t been seen. Huffing, she hummed and locked the door before moving towards her connected bathroom. She could absolutely and truly use a shower; her hair needed relaxing, her beat needed removing and her chest needed to _breathe_. Shaking her head, she set her boots and bag down by her bed before reaching up into her hair to begin pulling the various bobby-pins out as she massaged her curls and scalp.

She would report to her boss in the morning, but right now she needed to unwind. Hopefully she would stay awake long enough to eat. 


	2. Just Give Me a Reason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marine comes home from a mission to find her roommate injured from an accident on routine patrol. Of course she takes care of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Loose injury descriptions, as well as light brushing mentions of panic attacks. Nothing too graphic, but still be careful. 
> 
> Note: I need to thank everyone in the Rhife discord server that helped me figure out what caused the roommate’s injuries and what those injuries would be. Thank you all so very much.

She frowned as she stepped closer to the prone form on the couch. She’d just come home late from another mission, ready to shower and unwind, only to find her roommate passed out on the couch in nothing but his boxers and wrapped in bandages. Sighing, she turned away from the couch and walked into her bedroom to set her bag down on her dresser. She was suddenly faced with no time to fully shower and relax her hair from its curls, but she could still wash her beat off so her face was clear and clean.

Humming, she pulled on one of her oversized t-shirts to hide her corset and removed her stockings before walking back out to the living room and to her roommate’s side. She didn’t know what had happened to him, but she was worried over him, over what his injuries could possibly be from. Frowning, she carefully perched on the couch beside him and gently ran her hand through his hair. She lightly cussed herself as her gaze caught on the shiny and matte tipped blood red nails, but she didn’t have time to undo them now. Shaking her head, she carefully pulled back from him and sat up straight to mess with her hair and pull it up into a messy bun on top of her head before leaning back in to gently run her fingers through his short black hair. There was a cold press to his forehead, and a bandage on his cheek, as well as a nasty bruise traveling from his temple down past his eye and over his cheekbone.

She let out a slow breath as she gently moved his arms, stilling as a sharp whimpering noise escaped him. Moving more carefully, she gently lifted his left arm first and winced as she felt over the bandaged wrist and found the telltale traces of broken bones. Tracing up the arm, she followed the bandages and softly cussed as she felt the obvious tear in his rotator cuff as well as the break in his collarbone and she could picture the broken or pulled state of his shoulder blade. Gently placing the arm down on the couch cushion and across her lap, she moved on to gently prod at the bruises littering down the left side of his ribs, lightly applying just enough pressure to check for any breaks.

“Stop…” She gasped and stilled at the pain filled request that came out as both a sob as well as an order. Seeing him like this broke her heart, and while she was curious to what had happened—or why he hadn’t healed himself—she knew interrogating him right now wasn’t going to get them anywhere. “... hurts.”

Licking and biting her lip, she frowned and gently moved his left arm back to gently rest on his chest. “I’m sorry, I’ll stop.” She sighed as she apologized to him. She knew it hurt since she had felt similar pains from similar injuries far too many times to count. Moving slowly, she shifted on the couch to stand and stopped as fingers caught hers and she turned to look down and her eyes caught on his. “I’m just getting a blanket for you.”

“...” His eyes traced hers, and she frowned at the wild panic she could see there. It wasn’t a clear panic, and reminded her all too well of the nights her demons came to haunt her. Instead of moving away, she gently took his hand in her own and sat back down. Gently holding his injured hand in hers as their hands rested in her lap and she stayed in his clear line of eye sight. She smiled softly at him as he slowly calmed, and tried once more to move away from him. As he let her, she nodded and gestured to the linen wardrobe within the room before walking over to it and pulling out a lightweight but warm blanket. “You… you’re back.”

“Yeah. Just got in.” She answered as she gently covered him and gingerly sat back down beside him. “What happened?”

“I…” She frowned as he took a deep breath and then winced. Leaning forward, she placed a hand on his chest and gently rubbed, lightly massaging up the center of his chest over his sternum in an effort to help the pull of his muscles. “Routine patrol. Or, should’ve been…” 

“Wait, have you eaten anything? Taken anything for pain? I think there’s leftovers…” She began to move, but was stopped as his right hand covered her left on his chest. Sighing, she shifted to sit next to him again and continued rubbing his chest. “I’m just worried over you.”

“I ate when I got home… not… hungry. Stay, please.” His voice cracked as he held his hand over hers, and she whimpered at the look of pain in his eyes as he winced. “I… got blindsided by a mutant bloodhound or something. Fell… and detritus. I keep… getting panic…”

“Ssh, ssh.” She felt like her heart was breaking as she listened to him trying to speak, and she leant over him to press a kiss to his forehead. She couldn’t cast a Cure over him now, after the hours of the wounds setting in, and it tore her apart that all she could offer was soothing touches. She wanted so much to be able to chase the shadows from his eyes, and get rid of his pain, but it had been too long to be able to use magic or potions to heal him.

“Stay.” His voice was soft as he spoke, and she could tell that he was quickly falling back to sleep.

“I’ll be here when you wake.” She promised him as she gently rubbed his chest again. “I promise you.”

* * *

She frowned as she stood back against her bedroom wall with one foot propped up as she crossed her arms over her chest and watched as her partner gently moved her roommate from the couch to her bed. Normally, she would’ve moved him herself, but she wasn’t of the mind to jostle the brunette any more than absolutely necessary and so she’d called her partner for help while she’d also requested time off from their boss. She  _ never  _ took time off, but she wasn’t the one hurt right now, and with his wounds her roommate couldn’t look after himself.

“Thank you.” She whispered to her partner as he stepped past her and rubbed a hand over her shoulder in comfort. “I’ll walk you out.”

“Call me if you need anything, Marine.” She smiled as she nodded at her partner. She would, and he knew she would. He was always her first call, and had been for years now. “Oh, and make sure he has Boss’ number. Boss’ orders—in case something like this happens again.”

“Got it.” She hummed as she took in the words, in the knowledge that their boss was technically claiming an outsider as one of their own, and she tried to ignore the warm feeling that bloomed within her chest at the knowledge. “Goodnight.”

“Try to rest.” Her partner called back over his shoulder as he waved and walked to his car. He was returning to the office, and she was thankful that he’d agreed to do her work as well as his own so she could focus solely on her roommate and getting him back to health. Shaking her head, she stepped back into her house and closed the door before locking it and setting the alarm.

Turning back down the hall, she hummed as she thought over her next course of actions. She would need to shower and relax her hair, take a headache reliever, put on some leftovers and change out of her corset and dress. She also needed to undo her nails and…

“No!” She jumped as his startled and pain filled scream ripped through the silence of the house and rushed her way into her bedroom, hitting her top speed before she abruptly came to a stop at his side to sit beside him and place her hands over his freshly bandaged chest to gently push him to lay back down.

“It’s alright, you’re safe.” She whispered soft and soothingly as his eyes focused on her and he allowed himself to be pushed back against the pillows. “You’re safe. I was just in the kitchen thinking over what to do about food, I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

“My ribs hurt and remind me of…” His voice wavered and cut off as he took a slow breath; she hated seeing him like this, and hated that this incident was reminding him of his old accident. She’d not been around him back then, but it still itched at her when she thought over it. “I should’ve listened to you and bought Cure materia.”

“Probably.” She smiled softly down at him as she gently teased.

“What’s for dinner?” He smiled up at her then, and she giggled softly at the request; thankful and relieved at the return of his smirk.

“Whatever you made last, you know I can’t cook.” She smiled down at him as she gently rubbed his chest. She was happy to see some of his mental strength returning if he was feeling well enough to enquire over dinner, especially since they both know how horrendous she was at cooking. Before he had moved in, she had always just ordered takeout or existed on coffee and protein bars.

“Hmmm… chicken pasta casserole then.” He smiled again as she made a shocked gasping noise—he’d made her favorite dish!

“Thanks… I’ll make us some, ok?” She questioned and smiled softly at him as he nodded. “Coming right up.”


	3. Gotta Be Kind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He thinks over his injuries, and Marine; she’s just too cute when asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Light discussion of injuries. 
> 
> Note: Thank you so very much to Nozomi_Higurashi for helping me work on this and all the talks we have about these two. You help so very much! *hugs* (psst: go show them love)

He groaned as he slowly shifted from a restless sleep to an uneasy state of wakefulness; he could feel the pains in his limbs and his chest from his run in with the mutant bloodhound, but he didn’t regret it as the job had needed doing. While it would be nice to not be currently fighting to breathe through the severe bruising of his ribs, he had endured worse—far worse actually. Frowning, he gingerly shifted in an effort to stretch and test his limbs in order to do a rough inventory of his injuries. His ribs were definitely bruised, his left arm was torn up by the fangs of the beast, and the wrist was either sprained or broken. His back was possibly bruised and hurt terribly from the way he’d crashed into the wall of rusted metal before the haphazard stack of detritus had fallen forward over him; thinking of it brought him to the severe pain in his right ankle and leg. He felt like an invalid.

Sighing, he gently shook his head and slowly blinked his eyes open; even with the pitch darkness of the room, his head and eyes throbbed at the sheer act of opening them. He’d eaten dinner with his roommate, then had taken a few painkillers before passing back out—something he probably shouldn’t have been doing since the throbbing in his head, coupled with the dizziness and nausea, led him to believe he was possibly concussed. Thinking of his roommate, he frowned and carefully turned his head towards where he could feel a dip and warm weight in the bed beside him. Frowning, he focused on the general shape of the figure laying beside him, and strained to make out her face in the darkness.

They had been living with each other for about two months now and yet this had been the first time he’d ever seen her dolled up. He always thought she was lovely and entrancing, but seeing her with traces of makeup and in the short dress had been a type of shock to his system. Not a bad shock, he had just never seen her in makeup with her hair done. It suited her. The way her hair had been messy and curling, framing her face and highlighting the green of her eyes, had kept his attention away from the panic that kept spiking every time his ribs throbbed from the bruising.

Currently, she was laying in bed to his right side, still in the oversized t-shirt over her dress—or, so he assumed from the bit of skin he thought he could see of her thigh. She was on top of the covers, her hair still up in that messy bun, and while she wasn’t lying close enough to have her head resting against him or on him, but from the weight on his bicep, he could tell that at some point in her sleep she’d rested her hand over him. It felt nice, to know that she cared that much for him; though, it felt even better to know she trusted him so much that she’d allow him to see her all dolled up like this. He just wished it was under better circumstances and not from him being injured.

Sighing, he closed his eyes again and just listened to the quiet of the room, broken only by her soft breathing and his own slightly harsh breaths. His chest hurt, but nothing was too raspy or even fluid sounding, so he knew that the damage wasn’t secretly fatal. It was soothing knowledge, albeit useless, since he still had other injuries that would keep him bedridden for the foreseeable future. He still felt ridiculous for letting his guard down enough to even be in this situation. It didn’t even matter that he’d thought they still had a stock of potions back here, he should’ve listened to her and splurged on a Cure materia. He _knew better_.

Turning his head to look at her again, he hummed and wished he could roll on his side to better observe her. He always liked playing with her hair, but he’d never known it could hold a curl and he found himself itching to pull at least _one_ and see if it had enough spring or bounce to snap back into place or if he’d just end up undoing her hard work. Curiously, he reached out with his right hand to touch her; it was a bit blind, as he couldn’t see much of her even being propped up on pillows and the sharp hints of her pale skin serving as a guide for him in the dark, but he wanted to touch her. To confirm to himself that he was here, safe, and she was in fact beside him in bed—that this wasn’t some type of hallucination. Lightly, he ran his fingertips over the stretch of flesh he could slightly see in the darkness, and hummed softly at the softness of it. There was a hint and tease of toned muscle under the skin, but it didn’t take away from her beauty or the delicate nature of her. Following the curve of her hip, he tilted his hand to run his knuckles up her side, and hummed as they hit something a little hard and stiff under the t-shirt—a corset? He chuckled as he thought over how uncomfortable sleeping in one of those things must be. She was _too cute_ like this.

* * *

He sighed as he hung up the phone from Tseng—and wasn’t _that_ an odd thought. Calling Marine’s boss. But it had needed to be done, as she was still asleep and he hadn’t had the heart to wake her. Sighing, he slowly stood from his lean and walked from his place leaning against the wall to the front room to wait for the arrival of whichever Turk was going to be sent by with breakfast for them. He was sure Marine would chastise him later, but he _hated_ staying still. No matter what his wounds were. Besides, she’d stayed in a _corset_ , and had stayed up fretting over him for Gaia only _knows_ , he could do this for her.

Besides, lying still and trying not to breathe too deeply was doing more damage to his psyche than sitting on the couch or walking was doing to his physical injuries. Shifting, he breathed out slowly and hummed as he looked around the room and smiled at the two handguns resting on the coffee table. One was his black masterpiece, and beside it rested a stunning white and black work of art. Leaning forward, he gently lifted the ivory and ebony pistol and tested the weight of it in his hands. It was lighter than what he expected, and balanced differently than his own handgun, with what he assumed to be a much stronger kickback—it was definitely something designed to destroy and not leave chances of life. Apropos for a Turk.

His exploration of the pistol was cut off at the knock on the front door before a key turned in the lock and the soft voice of a girl called before stepping around the wall. Standing in the open frame was a small and slim redhead that he hadn’t seen before, but she was in the Turk uniform suit and bearing shopping bags as well as a carry out bag.

“Hello. Tseng sent me over with supplies.” He blinked and shook his head as he thought over the irony of so many redheaded Turks. He couldn’t help but wonder if Tseng willingly surrounded himself with the fiery natures or if it had just _happened_ over time. “I’m Cissnei.”

He watched curiously as the small framed girl moved around and set things in the kitchen. “I’ll stick around for the morning, help you change bandages and make her shower—I assume she hasn’t changed from last night?”

“Here.” He blinked as the girl, Cissnei, set a breakfast bowl and fork on the table before him before she disappeared down the hall and into Marine’s room.

“Marine.” Her voice was distant and soft at first, then slowly it raised as grumbling noises reached him and he chuckled as he began eating. He would leave the Turk to deal with waking her fellow, and he would instead focus on his breakfast. It was still a shame to see Marine being woken up, though; she’s just too cute when restful and still like that. 


	4. Heart Skips a Beat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’s healing nicely, but she notices the way he doesn’t fully stretch his ankle out the way he needs to. Having reached his limit for the day, she offers him a massage—and he, well... he suggests they need to have a conversation.

Marine hummed as she watched him run through stretches, all physical therapy stretches that had been set to him by the doctor in Sector 5, and she’d been shocked to find how oddly kind the man was to her while she’d helped her roommate limp his way through the Undercity. They could’ve gone to a doctor above plate, but her roommate still held preference for the slums after living within them his entire life. It wasn’t something she could truly fault him for, either; she’d been raised within the Undercity in just the same way he had. They were slum rats, and in a lot of ways, they would always be slum rats.

“You need to stretch your ankle more.” She chided softly as she watched him skip the full movement once more. He’d done the same cheating motion three times now, and she could tell from his slight jump that he’d thought she wasn’t watching him. Sighing, she stood from her place on the couch and walked around the coffee table to where he was laying out on a mat to do his stretches. He’d initially tried them on just their carpet and had quickly found out that carpet burn was a real and decently painful thing to experience.

“It  _ hurts _ Marine. The tendon is pulled, strained and…” She frowned at the pain lancing through his voice, she hated seeing him like this. It had been about two months since his accident with that mutant bloodhound, and she’d spent every day off work to stay home and take care of him. He had a high healing factor, and took well to medicines, but when it came to stretching this last injury, he would often end up screaming in pain and would be too hurt or exhausted to do anything else for anywhere from a few hours to a couple of days.

“I  _ know.”  _ She sighed as she knelt next to him and ran a hand up through his black hair. It needed a bit of a trim, as it was beginning to get a tad bit too long for it to stick up the way he liked. Shifting, she moved to sit behind him and pulled him to lean back into her, allowing him to sit between her legs as he leant backwards and rested his back to her chest. Running her hands over his bare chest, she hummed and focused on the still slightly tender places over his ribs, sternum and right shoulder. The bruises were long gone, and the bite marks in his left forearm were nearly erased—nonexistent almost—but those were not the injuries that still served to bother him, and were not his current difficulty. “Stretch slowly, and squeeze my hands if you need to.”

“It hurts too much, Marine. I  _ can’t.” _ His voice broke as he let out a whimper and she sighed as she wrapped her arms comfortingly around him; one around his shoulders with her left hand on his right pec and the other around his waist with her right hand resting on his abs. She’d ended up in this position with him a lot lately, especially as his stretches had been hurting him so much in the last week or so. Ever since his accident, their relationship had changed and they’d become more open with each other; they talked more, she was freer with showing her affections for him and he in turn relied on her a little more. It wasn’t truly how she’d expected to get to know him so much in such a short period of time, but she wasn’t going to complain. Though, she did wish it had all occurred under different circumstances.

“Then just relax for today.” She hummed as she lifted her hand from his chest to card it through his hair, gently massaging the scalp and smiling at the way he moaned low in his throat at the sensation. He had a thing with his hair being played with—something he apparently  _ hadn’t _ known about until she’d mindlessly done so back when his injuries were still fresh—and depending on  _ how _ she did so, it could either serve to soothe him to sleep or wake him up enough to be cajoled into doing his stretches. She knew it was a dirty tactic, to do this and play at his hormones and emotions to get him to cooperate, but she also knew that he needed the push to get better. Currently, however, her goal in playing with his hair was to soothe and so she was far more gentle with him as she ran her hand through his hair.

“Putting me to sleep.” He grumbled out as she worked and she chuckled at the slight yawn she could hear in the back of his throat. “I just woke up, Marine.”

She chuckled as she stopped and gently tugged at his hair instead, pulling his head up a bit and watching the way his neck stretched as he swallowed and let out a low moan. “Let me give you a massage then?”

“... Alright.” She smiled as he agreed to her request, and she slowly untangled herself from him to stand and go to her room in order to retrieve her massage oil. It wasn’t often that she got to do this, and she’d been itching to work out his injured muscles for weeks, so she was happy that he was well enough and was allowing her. “Mind if it’s in here?”

She hummed as his voice came from close behind her, and she smiled as she set the bottle back on her dresser and helped him walk to her—their?—bed. Despite how well he’d been recovering lately, they’d yet to actually move him back to his own room and into his own bed, but she truly didn’t mind. First of all: her bed was large enough for them both to sleep comfortably without touching, and second: he still woke up in the night from his bruised ribs hurting or nightmares breaking him from his slumber. “If you wish.”

“If I fall asleep on you, it’ll be better. You don’t have to move me in here, and I don’t get hurt from you trying to lift me.” She chuckled as he lightly huffed and laughed at his own teasing. It was nice to hear his mood lifted so much, but it also pulled at her a bit; if he was feeling better, he was healing and if he was healing, he would soon be moving back into his own room. It was…  _ bittersweet. _ She was happy to see him improving, but she was also feeling torn about returning to sleeping alone.

“Good point.” She hummed as he laid back on the bed, eyes closing as he settled into what had become ‘his side’. Shaking her head, she moved back to her dresser to grab the massage oil and then returned to the bed before sitting on his far side to be fully mobile as she worked on him.

* * *

* * *

He moaned quietly and low in his throat as Marine settled her weight carefully in his lap and over his thighs. He’d never been one for massages, as they were expensive and that was simply money he did not have to splurge on himself, as well the fact that he didn’t care for being touched so intimately—and yet, here he was laying beneath Marine as she watched how she settled her weight on his thighs and slowly kneaded the massage oil into his aching muscles. He moaned again as her hands gently ran up over his abs, dipping curiously into that small ‘v’ that was formed from his muscles and hips, trailing down over the light dusting of hairs along his happy trail, and then back up to count the definition of his six-pack abs. He would’ve chuckled at the curious look on her face as she explored him if he wasn’t so caught up in the sheer pleasure of it. She rarely touched him like this, as she usually only touched him platonically or in order to check on him, and now that she  _ was _ he couldn’t help but moan and hope for more.

He hadn’t truly ever paid much attention to his libido before, never really been around anyone that stirred his hormones, but Marine was quickly changing that. It wasn’t just in the  _ here and now _ either, but any time of the day or night when he would watch her go about anything. She was beyond simply being pretty, she was gorgeous, with long red hair that traveled all the way down her back when it wasn’t up in curls, and she had a gorgeous smile. He preferred her smirks, as they twisted his gut and lit a fire within him, but the rare full smile always left him breathless. He wanted her; by Gaia did he want her.

“I can feel where your thoughts are, you know?” Her voice brought him out of his thoughts and his eyes opened to see her gazing down at him with a thoughtful and frowning pout. She looked torn between amused, flattered and hurt. Seeing the hurt in her eyes sobered him, and sighing, he placed a hand on her lower back to steady her as he sat up in one swift motion—causing her to gasp and moan at the action. “Wha… what?” Her voice cracked as she gripped his shoulders, and he fought back a moan at the breathlessness within the question.

“We need to have a discussion… about this, you…” He gestured towards her as he spoke, “And us. What  _ this _ is between us.”

“I…” he held her gaze as her eyes searched his own, he didn’t want her to think he wasn’t serious, and he wanted her to see how he felt for her: for every single facet of her. “... yeah.”


End file.
